


Drink You Away

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, NSFW, NSFW text, Oneshot, Reader Death, Reader Insert, Sex, Smut, explicit - Freeform, injury to reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:35:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Based on the song of the same name. Alcohol won't kill the pain, but Dean can try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drink You Away

_'I'm gonna be fine.'_

He closes his eyes tightly, trying to push away the thoughts that tear up his insides. His fingers curled around the whiskey glass tightly, almost to the point of cracking the glass, and he picked it up, swallowing the bitter amber liquid swiftly. Raising his other hand, he signalled the bartender in the dreary little dive bar, ordering another.

This place wasn't one he frequented. It didn't look like anyone came here much; but then, Dean had seen most of the backwater bars in the United States. They all looked the same after a while – darkened walls, the stale smell of cigarette smoke, the bartender who wouldn't be there for more than a year, and furniture that had seen better days.

He'd first seen you in a place like this.

'You starting a tab?' The bartender asked, and Dean raised bloodshot green eyes to meet his. He nodded, and the bartender gave him a tight smile. 'Got a card?'

'Sure thing.' He grimaced as he moved, the most recent bruises from his fight with yet another demon rubbing against the thick winter jacket he had on.

'Haven't seen you in here before. I know most of the regulars.' The bartender was attempting small talk. It wasn't something Dean would normally engage in, but he'd already sunk a bottle of whiskey before he'd left the bunker to avoid Sam's pep talk.

'Not a place I usually come.' He muttered, handing over the fake credit card. 'But...times being what they are.'

'Economy?' Dean chuckled mirthlessly at his reply.

'No. Lost someone.' He swallowed back the whiskey in one hit, wincing as it burned on the way down. 'Someone close to me.'

The bartender pulled out a fresh bottle from under the counter, placing it next to Dean's arm. 'Sounds like you're gonna need this.' Dean grinned. 'So, girlfriend?'

'Sort of.' Dean muttered, watching as the man unscrewed the lid of the bottle, pouring out another glass. He reached behind him, pulling another glass over. 'You know the one that always gets away?'

'Yeah.' The bartender grinned. 'One of the reasons I'm here. Never had her to lose her, but still -'

Dean smiled, remembering you and the way you'd spoken to him on your first meeting. 'I had this one. Shouldn't have gotten close though.'

_'So, you're a Winchester.' You grinned, sliding into the booth opposite him. 'Not what I was expecting.'_

_'And what were you expecting, sweetheart?' Dean smiled over at you, leaning forward._

_'Certainly not a couple of male models.' Your smile only widened, as you reached over and stole his whiskey from under his nose. 'Hmm.' You sniffed the glass. 'At least you drink the good stuff.'_

_'I'm sorry, is there some way we can help you?' Sam asked, cutting straight to the point as you threw back his brother's drink, Dean's eyes watching your every move._

_You smirked, dropping the empty glass to the table. 'I'm on a hunt. Rumour has it, you're the guys to help. Well, Bobby said you were in the area. Couldn't pass up the chance to meet a couple of celebrities.' Both Winchesters looked at you with raised eyebrows, surprised by your boldness. 'Look, I got a pack of werewolves chowing down on a town thirty miles away. Can't take 'em myself. And you're the best. And closest.' You sat back. 'How about I buy us another round, and we nail the details down? Got another two nights of the full moon. Plenty of time to gank 'em.'_

_'So...you're a hunter?' Dean said, as if the words tasted funny in his mouth._

_'Yeah.' You nodded. 'I did mention that, right?'_

_'You...aren't what we're used to seeing in a hunter.' Sam pointed out, his hands buried deep in his coat pockets, his eyes firmly on you._

_'What, cause I'm a girl?'_

_'No. Cause you're hot.' Dean chuckled, and you narrowed your eyes at him._

_'Don't let that distract you. Ask Bobby.' You stood up. 'I'll get the drinks. You think about the hunt. Could use the help.'_

_You sashayed away from them, feeling eyes on your ass the whole time. It wasn't a lie, what your friends in the hunting community had told you; both Winchesters were a sight to behold. Intimidating but commanding at the same time. And you knew this hunt was going to be interesting._

'She was larger than life.' Dean smiled, his eyes distant as the bartender watched him. 'Like...I don't know...a diva but without the shitty attitude. Everything she did or said captivated me. From the second I saw her.'

The bartender nodded. 'Pretty?'

'The prettiest.' Dean affirmed. 'Except I never called her that. To me, pretty didn't cover it. She was beautiful. Gorgeous.' He chuckled. 'She hated when I told her.'

'How'd you meet?'

Dean sighed; he supposed letting it out might help, whilst he used the whiskey to soothe the pain. Wasn't like the bartender knew him, or could run to Sam and tell him all. 'Place like this. Dive. Working a job, and in she blows. Takes command.'

'And then?'

'And then it all went to shit.'

_'Sam!' Dean's yell echoed around the deserted factory, as you burst in through the door, arm in arm with a werewolf, it's foaming jaw snapping centimetres from your throat. With a twist and a jerk, you slid the silver blade up through it's rib cage into it's heart, just as Sam sprinted in, with two more wolves on his tail._

_Dean held up his shotgun, blasting the monsters, but it didn't slow them down much. You scrambled to your feet, only a second from being a chew toy._

_'This is not working out!' Sam said, spinning to stand at his brothers side, just as you skidded to halt next to them. The wolves stopped, snarling, circling. A window smashed behind you, and three more wolves landed in the room, their clawed hands animated as they backed you and the Winchesters into a corner._

_'I noticed.' Dean ground out, looking over at you. 'Did you count wrong?'_

_'Sometimes it's not just hunters that get back up, Dean.' You spat, pulling your gun from your waistband, holding it aloft, safety off as you kept your knife pointed forward. 'Fuck this.'_

_You charged, ignoring the yells of the other hunters, straight at the first wolf in front of you. It dodged, snarling, ripping at you, and you parried away to avoid the claws, before ducking down and making a quick stab with the knife. The wolf hissed, then screamed and dropped._

_Direct hit._

_Gunshots fired behind you as Dean took out one wolf. Sam's gun was knocked to the floor as another tackled him over, and he held it back, trying desperately not to get himself bit. Pulling your gun up, you shot at the wolf coming for you, killing it, and then you ran at Sam, dislodging the wolf from his chest. Rolling over him, you fired three times, finally hitting the creature and leaving it dead._

_Dean's gun fired, and you looked up, seeing the final werewolf against the wall, blood spurting from an open chest wound. It slid to the floor, dispatched, and Dean looked over at you. You stood up, ignoring his glare, helping Sam to his feet._

_'What the hell was that?'_

_'We're alive, Dean. Just leave it.' Sam brushed himself down._

_But the older Winchester wasn't having it. He marched over to you, scowling as you stood your ground. 'You said there were four. Four wolves.'_

_'Yeah?' You pulled yourself up to your full height, which was still significantly less than Dean's, but you weren't one to be intimidated. 'There were four. Obviously, they caught my scent and called their friends in.'_

_'There were eight!' Dean yelled._

_'I can fucking count.'_

_'Dean!' Sam shouted. 'They're dead. We're fine. Just leave it. It happens.'_

_You were toe to toe with him now, glaring into his green eyes, and god, you'd never felt more turned on in your life. You weren't sure whether to punch him or kiss him. His jaw clenched, and he exhaled furiously, before standing back, aggressively pocketing his gun and knife._

_'We burn the bodies.' He said, keeping his eyes on you. His angry face was almost a pout, and it just made him seem that little bit less intimidating. 'Then we're out.'_

'So she nearly messed up?' The bartender said, refilling Dean's drink. He didn't know the specifics – Dean wouldn't go that far into spilling his guts – but he knew there was a job, and that she'd been there.

'It wasn't her fault. I just wanted someone to blame. It was a tough job.' He smiled, remembering the aftermath. 'It had been a tough time all round. And then along comes this spitfire of a girl...and she's...fuck...we were just working one job. But she never left.'

_'We're heading out.' Dean was leaning against the door to your motel room, and you looked up from your duffel, pausing in your packing. 'Just thought I'd let you know. You got a ride, yeah?'_

_'I did.' You replied.'Got towed.' You shrugged. 'I'll hitch. Not the first time.'_

_Dean stepped into the room, walking over to you. 'You pack really light for a girl.' He said, casually, and you laughed. 'Even Sam doesn't pack that light.'_

_'I probably use less hair products.' You joked, pushing the last of your shirts into the bag, before zipping it tight. 'Anyway, it's been good. Sorry it wasn't as smooth sailing as I thought it would be.'_

_'It's not a problem. I was just...it's been a bit of a rough year.' His face was tight as he jerked his head towards the door. 'Look, you don't need to hitch. We can give you a ride back to Bobby's. You can get some supplies and I'm sure he's got a car you can use.'_

_'That's real sweet of you, Dean, but I know you don't want me hanging around.' You hoisted the bag up, onto one shoulder. 'I'm good.'_

_He nodded. 'Except I'm not.' You froze, raising an eyebrow at him. 'I'm not good with you walking out that door. Let us give you a ride. Peace of mind, yeah?'_

_'You treat other hunters like this, Dean? Or is it cause I'm a girl?' Your smile was wide; you were gonna take the ride, either way._

_He laughed, motioning to the door. 'Just get in the car.'_

'She stayed.' Dean sipped at the next glass full of whiskey, his eyes already glazing over. 'Six months. She's there, cleaning up after brutal jobs...man, the things you think you know about sewing up a wound, and then there she is.' He didn't catch the look on the bartenders face as he said that – he was too caught up in the memories. 'And then we hit a rough job. _Really_ nasty one.' He looked down. 'Six months it took me to pluck up the courage.'

_Dean hammered on the door, finally seeing it open to a dishevelled Y/N. She was bloodied up, and a nasty gash ran from her forehead down to her chin. 'Shit.' He cursed, pushing his way into the room. Sam was asleep in the warded room they'd booked together, but Y/N had run off before he could check her over._

_'I'm fine.' You said, pushing the door shut, but Dean was already picking up the medical kit you'd discarded on the table. 'I was just -'_

_'Yeah, well now I'm doing it.' He pointed at the chair. 'Sit.'_

_'I'm perfectly -' You started to protest, only to be met with the resolved expression of Dean Winchester. His eye was bruising nicely, and he was wearing a different shirt than he had been earlier; but then that one had been shredded. Sliding into the seat, you sat still as Dean started to clean you up._

_There was blood over your blue shirt, and you knew it was ruined. Dean looked down, frowning at the mess you were in._

_'You're gonna need to take that off.' He said, and you swore you saw a slight red taint to his cheeks, the same you felt raising in yours as you reached down, pulling at the hem of your shirt. Slowly, you pulled it off, wincing at the pain you felt in your shoulder. 'Rough hunts. You love 'em and you hate 'em.' Dean muttered, clearly struggling to keep his eyes away from your bra clad breasts._

_You were glad of the black lacy number you'd picked to wear today. It was a two fold reason – one, it didn't show blood and two, it was the sexiest thing you owned. Thank you, laundry day._

_Silence descended as Dean started to stitch up the deepest part of the wound at your temple. It was only five stitches, but he would probably do a neater and cleaner job than you could with a dirty motel bathroom mirror. When he was done, he cleaned up, putting the supplies away._

_'Is that the only cut?' He asked and you nodded. 'Your shoulder took a hit.' He reminded you and you shook your head._

_'No blood. Just bruising.'_

_'Let me check.' He stood up, making a gesture with his hands for you to turn around. Lifting yourself from the chair, you turned, and a few seconds later, you felt his large calloused hands on your right shoulder, running over your skin. You hissed as he found the tender part. 'Sorry.' He whispered and you nodded, biting your lip at his touch. His fingers disappeared and you waited._

_His lips on your skin were the last thing you expected, and you moaned slightly, as he kissed over the injury to your shoulder. 'Dean...'_

_'I can't...' He muttered against you, his hands dropping to your waist. 'I can't hold this in any more. Seeing you hurt like this...knowing something worse could have happened -'_

_'Nothing bad is gonna happen.' You replied, closing your eyes as his kisses moved from your shoulder up to your neck, his hands digging into your skin at your middle. 'I swear, I won't -'_

_'Doesn't matter.' Dean's word were a growl as he turned you, roughly pressing his lips against yours. 'I can't watch and know I haven't told you.'_

_'Told me what?' You gasped, in between desperate kisses._

_He pulled back, green eyes sparkling. 'That I've wanted you since the moment I saw you. That I need you. That I...I...' He took a breath, closing his eyes briefly until he felt your hand on his cheek. Even after all these years, he still struggled with the words._

_You smiled, pulling him back down to your lips, keeping your voice to a whisper. 'Me too.' He groaned into your mouth, thrusting his tongue against yours, his hands holding your body close against his._

_With a sense of urgency, his hands palmed your ass, before sliding around to the front to unbutton your pants. You returned the favour, pulling at his as he pushed you back towards your bed. Clothes hit the floor along the way, until you were left in your bra and panties, him in his boxers, as you turned him around, pushing him onto the bed. You trailed your hand over the hardness tenting his boxers, smiling in satisfaction as it jumped underneath your touch. Dean grunted, tilting his head back and gritting his teeth._

_'I thought about this a lot.' You muttered, pulling his boxers down. He reached up, attempting to fondle your breast, but you pushed him down, one hand wrapped around his cock, a smile on your face. 'Definitely thought about this.' The murmur was drowned out by Dean's groan as your lips slid over his tip, your teeth grazing gentle at the skin, before you took him further. His fists clenched in the sheets at his side, and his hips bucked, prompting you to relax your throat and grant him the movement._

_'Fuck, Y/N.' He raised his head, the movement taking a lot of effort as you continued to suck his cock, your eyes on him. He groaned loudly again, almost losing control of his hips as you increased the pressure on his dick. 'You carry on with that, and this is all gonna be over far sooner than I'd like.'_

_You stood up, releasing his length with a soft wet plop, smiling down at him. He pulled himself up, his cock slapping against his stomach, your saliva smearing across his skin. His hands grabbed at your hips, pulling you forward, ripping your panties down your legs._

_'Dean -' You gasped out, as his nose pressed into your pubic mound, his tongue darting out to touch your folds. Your hands slid through his hair, your head falling back as he started to lick along your labia, dipping into your slit without restraint, before coming back up to your clit. He sucked it into his mouth, his hands clutching at your ass, pulling you closer. Your thighs parted a little, giving him easier access and he took the chance, moving one hand from your ass to your cunt, two fingers slipping deftly along your wetness, sinking inside you up to the knuckle._

_'You taste fucking amazing.' He muttered, before returning his attention to your clit, using his fingers to seek out all the sensitive spots inside your body. You were biting your lip to the point of drawing blood, tiny moans escaping you as he fucked you with his hand, his tongue drawing out the sensations from the bundle of nerves that seemed to come to life and send sparks of electricity through your body._

_'Dean -' You whimpered, and he pulled back, replacing his tongue with his thumb, using his whole hand to bring you off as he watched your face. You kept your eyes on his, coming apart on his fingers, your whimpers upgrading to cries as you reached orgasm for him._

_'Gotta fucking have you.' Dean muttered, pulling you into his lap, your legs either side of his. His tip brushed against your entrance, your walls still fluttering from the orgasm he'd given you. Without any further preamble, he pulled you down onto him, sinking inside you to the hilt, both of you moaning in completion. He stilled, letting you adjust to his size, taking the chance to unhook and remove your bra. 'You feel fucking perfect, sweetheart.'_

_You nodded, no able to form words as he started moving, his hips thrusting up into you, his length almost too much for you to take. Every stroke hit a spot inside you that you hadn't felt before, and you screamed for him as he played you like a fine instrument. His mouth found your breasts, sucking one nipple, then the other, his tongue circling each hard nub until you were begging for release._

_'Dean, I'm so..I'm -'_

_'Come on, baby. Come for me. Come on my cock.' He bounced you harder, slamming into you, his teeth clenched together, his green eyes watching every single little movement you made. 'Come with me.' You nodded, closing your eyes as he gave a particularly sharp thrust and you fell head first into pleasure, screaming and drowning out the grunt he gave as he spilled himself inside you._

_His arms held you close as you panted into his shoulder, both of you covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He pulled your face up, kissing you gently._

_'I should have done that sooner.' He smiled and you nodded, unable to speak whilst you caught your breath._

'Nine months.' Dean muttered. 'Was all I got in the end.' He looked down, and the bartender watched as a single tear tracked down his cheek. 'I wasted all that time. Wasn't quick enough. Either time.'

'What happened to her?'

'She was murdered.'

_'Sam, you got this?' Dean ran across the yard, seeing the flicker of lights in the building ahead. Sam yelled a confirmation at him as he ran, and he skidded through the door without stopping, heading straight up the staircase. You were fighting at the top, and Dean screamed your name. You turned, but the demon you were fighting got the upper hand, and hit you with a vicious punch. Falling back, you snarled, pissed at the hit, and used the momentum to tackle him to the floor, arms around his waist._

_You didn't see the second demon, as Dean rounded the corner onto the landing, and you didn't really feel the knife from the first demon as the second attacked. With an angry yell, you rolled, and Dean's knife sank into the demon's back, golden light flashing through him as he died. The second demon took one glance, and ran, knowing he couldn't handle the both of you._

_Dean's hand was warm as he helped you up, his lips automatically pressing against yours. 'You okay? I thought I saw him stab you.'_

_'Just a nick I think.' You were breathing heavily, adrenaline pumping through your system. 'I can't feel it, so can't be bad.' The green eyed hunter nodded, but his hands insisted on checking you over anyway. 'Dean, let's get outside first.' He gave you a tight smile, before taking your hand and leading you down the steps._

_You were less than halfway down when Sam appeared at the bottom, relief on his face at seeing you both._

_At the halfway point, your adrenaline wore off._

_The pain kicked in and you bent over, grabbing at your side._

_Dean's face contorted in worry as he reached for you, holding you close._

_'She's been stabbed.' Sam's voice sounded so far away. 'Shit, Dean, she's bleeding out.'_

_'Cas!' Dean's scream was muted; it sounded funny. You were so light headed, and Dean's hands were so warm as he cradled you. You couldn't feel your legs._

_You didn't remember ever being this tired._

_Dean kept screaming, and you told him to hush, or at least, you think you did. He was staring at you with those green eyes you loved so much, but he looked like he was crying._

_'Dean?'_

_'Hold on, sweetheart. We're gonna fix you.'_

_'I'm gonna be fine.' You smiled, reaching up to cradle his cheek, not realising that your blood was coating your hand. 'This'll be fine.' Your voice slurred, and your smile waned, as the world around you got a little darker._

_'No. No. No. No. No.' Dean repeated, holding you close. 'Please, baby, don't, please -'_

_Your hand fell from his cheek. 'I just need...a little...'_

'She died in my arms.' Dean said, staring down at his drink. 'I wasn't quick enough. I didn't save her.'

The bartender straightened. 'Well. I wouldn't say that. You were with her when she died, Dean.'

A frown crossed the hunter's face. 'Wait.' He looked up, seeing the bartender stood in front of him, the bottle of whiskey in his hand, ready to pour. 'I never told you my name.'

Black eyes flashed and the bartender grinned. 'Oops.'

Dean was quick to pull out his knife and in one jump, he was across the bar, holding the demon against the wall. 'Black eyed bitch.' He snarled, anger and whiskey fuelling him. 'She's fucking dead because of you.'

'Or because of you?' The demon laughed, despite the pressure on his wind pipe and the knife against his belly. 'I mean, you could have gotten rid of her. Then she wouldn't be in the pit.'

'She's not...' Dean faltered, giving the demon the chance to push him back, and the knife clattered to the floor. The other patrons had left, and he had no back up available. Reaching out, the demon placed his foot on the hunter's forearm, pressing down.

'Oh, she's writhing down there. In agony. I made sure of it.'

'You're just lower level scum.' Dean ground out, glaring up at him, still reaching his fingers towards the knife. It moved slightly, and his eyes widened but the demon didn't notice. 'You don't have a fucking clue where she is.'

The demon laughed, and the knife moved again. 'I saw her go, Deano. She had a one way ticket.'

Dean reached out once more, and the weapon slid into his grasp, just as the demon leaned down to grab him. With a twist of his hand, the knife slid through the demon's jaw, up into his brain, and in a flash of golden light, he was dead.

The corpse fell to the floor and Dean coughed, getting himself up, holding the knife out curiously.

'Unfinished business.' Your voice made him spin, and he stared at you, his eyes darting to the bloody wound in your side. 'Can be a tricky thing.'

'Y/N?' Dean whispered, unable to believe what he was seeing. 'But you're...you're...'

'Dead? Yeah. Sucks.' You shrugged, stepping forward. 'Downpoint of the job.'

'I should have saved you.'

'You did, Dean.' Your hand reached out to touch him, and he shivered, exhaling a cloud of breath into the cold air. 'In so many ways. But we're hunters. This happens.' Your smile was sad. 'You have to move on.'

'You're not in the pit?' He sounded terrified and you shook your head.

'No. No, I waited. Had to make sure...had to see...' Your eyes went distant for a moment and he wanted to step into you, hold you close and never let go. 'I just want you to know...I'll wait for you, Dean. I'll always wait for you.' You brushed a hand down his cheek, feeling his warmth one last time.

He shut his eyes, your cold touch spreading through him, before he opened them, intending on saying those three words he'd always struggled with.

But you were gone.

 


End file.
